


Hermione is Never Wrong

by DeanBean



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-20
Updated: 2012-03-20
Packaged: 2017-11-02 06:23:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeanBean/pseuds/DeanBean
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I wrote this... Probably when I was 15 or 16? Because I kept coming across all this Drarry slash and I kept wondering why no one ever paired him with Ron. I think this is the first thing I wrote that I was actually sort of proud of.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hermione is Never Wrong

Ron grunted, pulling his Chudley Canons blanket over his head. The sunlight shining through his shabby curtains felt like it was trying to gouge his eyes out.

He was never, repeat, NEVER going to let Fred and George talk him into anything again... EVER! It had been those two that had barged in, half drunk, with two full bottles of Fire Whiskey in hand. Ron and Harry had laughed at the two of them as they attempted to hold each other up while giggling like school girls. Then a bet was made that Ron couldn't handle a sip, let alone how much they had had. Now, Ron wasn't one to turn down a competition with his prankster brothers.

One, two, three shots of the searing liquid down the hatch... Then? Well, Ron couldn't recall. He couldn't remember a thing.

Under the blanket Ron rubbed his aching eyes. His stomach growled as it usually did in the morning. "Maybe food will help get rid of this frigging headahce" he thought. Food had never let him down before.

In the cot next to Ron's bed Harry mumbled in his sleep and began to toss and turn. Ron peeked through a hole worn into his blanket at his best friend. Harry's face was twisted in pain, a sweat sheening his forehead, making his hair stick to him. Harry mumbled louder, the words unrecognizable.

Ron pulled his covers back down and leaned over his bed, placing a hand on Harry's heaving chest. Harry jerked awake, clutching Ron's arm painfully.

"Harry!" Ron, shouted, trying to break his hand free. "Harry! It's me! Ron!"

Harry looked over, his breathing still heavy. He dropped Ron's hand, reaching for his glasses. Ron's aching hand went up and ran its fingers through Harry's hair. Harry leaned into the gesture. When Mrs. Weasley did this to Ron, he knew it calmed him down quite a bit. 

"What was it, mate?" asked Ron.

Harry rubbed his head, "Just a dream. At least, I think. It gets harder and harder to tell these days."

"Should we tell Dad?" 

"No, I'm fine. It was just a dream."

"But your scar-" Ron said, staring into those shining emerald eyes as Harry kneaded his forehead with his long, broom callused fingers.

"It's just a headache Ron... Hangover I think. What about you? Does your scar hurt.?" Harry laughed, leaning back onto his pillows. 

"'Bout the same as you mate." Ron said, groaning. "I'll kill those two."

"I'm sure they're in much worse shape than we are." Harry said. "We didn't have to accept anyway y'know."

"But they-" Ron started.

"Challenged you? Yes, I know, I was there." Harry completed thinking back to last night. He couldn't remember much, he'd never drank before. All he could remember was Fred and George laughing and cracking jokes, and Ron just sitting staring at him. Harry looked up at his best friend.

"Do you remember anything?" he asked.

"No. Not really." Ron replied. "You?"

"No. It's all fuzzy." 

Ron looked down at his best friend. Harry put his hand on his chest, playing with a loose thread on the pocket there. "Thanks mate." he whispered.

"For what?" Ron asked, startled. 

"Waking me up, for one. Being there in general. Just thanks, I dunno what the hell I'd do without you."

Ron felt his ears go red. He smoothed his hair over them. His stomach growled. "Oh yeah!" he laughed "I'm bloody starving!"

"You're always hungry." Harry said then got up, stretching. As he stretched his arms over his head, his shirt rose up. Ron couldn't help but stare at the smooth abs Harry had developed from many hours on the Quidditch pitch. It was all he could do to keep from jumping up just to touch the bare flesh. WAIT! RON, what are you thinking? He's your best mate. You can't think that way!

Harry sighed then dropped his arms, his shirt covering his skin again. Ron felt his ears burn, and again he tried to smooth his hair over them. Harry walked over to the door holding it open. "Coming?"

"What? Oh, yeah." Ron said, he'd been staring into space, trying to clear his thoughts of all things Harry Potter. He got up and passed Harry into the hall. They made there way downstairs into the kitchen.

The kitchen was already busy when they entered. Mrs. Weasley bustled over a steaming stove. Hermione and Ginny were huddled, heads together over a magazine, whispering to each other. Fred and George were at the far end of the table, hunched over cups of coffee, brows furrowed. Ron smirked at the sight of them. 

Mrs. Weasley turned and smiled when she saw them "Ah, boys, good of you to join us. Sit! Eat!" They did as they were told, shoveling food into their mouths as teenage boys do. Harry's knees bumped against Ron's as he reached over for the toast. Ron froze at the touch, his ears going red.

Hermione happened to look up at them. She gave a knowing smirk then turned back to the magazine her and Ginny were examining.

Ron hated that feeling... The feeling that Hermoine knew something only she would pick up on.

After a few helpings the food had soothed Ron's headache. He burped loudly. Harry sniggered, but Mrs. Weasley, Ginny and Hermione all said "Ronald!" at the same time.

"That was great mum!" He said loudly, looking at Fred and George, they winced at the loud words. He slammed his chair under the table and nudged Harry. Harry did the same, smirking at the twins, who's heads were on the table now.

\------

Harry was in the bathroom taking a long shower. Mrs. Weasley had kept them busy all day, tending the garden, cleaning the rooms, helping with dinner, basically everything that needed doing got done. 

Ron was lying on his bed flipping through the pages of "Quidditch Through the Ages" for the umpteenth time. The book was so worn out he had to bind it together again with spell-o-tape. The only reason he was reading the book was to try and force all thoughts or blasted Harry Potter naked in his bathroom. The water running down his bare flesh...

There was a knock on the door, then Hermione entered. She shut the door behind her and sat neatly on the bed, folding her hands in her lap. She stared at him smugly trying to see if he knew why she was there. 

"Yes?" he asked, shutting his book. 

"I have a question..." she said, looking at her lap.

"And that is?"

"When exactly did we develop a crush on the Boy Who Lived?  
"  
"Bloody hell 'Mione!"

"What?"

"Where in the name of Merlin did you get that idea?" Ron felt his ears heat up. He smoothed his hair around them by habit. 

"You send out hints all the time. Girls pick up on those kind of things. y'know."

"You're insane! You know that?"

"That may be true." she said, biting back a laugh, "but you wouldn't be trying to hide you tell-all ears if it weren't the least bit true."

"I-I'm not!" he stuttered

"Well at least Harry's gay, you don't have to worry about that."

"You're off your rocker Hemione!"

"Am I?"

"Yeah!"

"Oh, I see." she said, grinning. She stood up and opened the door. "When you're ready to talk, I'm ready to listen. Goodnight Ronald." she left closing the door quietly behind her. 

Ron moaned and slammed back onto his bed, glaring at the ceiling. He couldn't like Harry like that, could he? Harry had nervously announced last Christmas that he was gay. Evidently homosexuality was a lot more accepted in the wizarding world as Harry looked deeply relieved. Since then, Ron always found himself thinking... well, not exactly pure thoughts about his best friend. Lately he couldn't seem to control it. Ron loved Harry, but as a brother. He tried to convince to himself.

The door creaked open but Ron kept his gaze on the ceiling. He smelt the clean smell of soap and toothpaste as someone plopped down beside him. 

"What are we looking at?" Harry asked, after a moment. 

"Nothing." said Ron, turning on his side and propping his head up on his elbow. 

"Ron?" Harry asked.

"Hmm?"

"You've been acting really strange all summer. It's because I'm gay isn't it?"

"What? No! Course not! You're my best mate. You know I would've told you if I didn't like it."

"Yeah, I know." said Harry "You've just been acting strange. Whats wrong?"

"Nothings wrong."

"You're a ruddy liar!" Harry shouted, slapping Ron on the forehead. "You know you incapable of lying to me Ron Weasley!"

"You haven't talked to 'Mione lately have you?"

"No, why?"

"She has a theory... Out of her damn mind, that girl."

"When has Hermione Jean Granger, Gryffindor prefect, and smartest witch attending Hogwarts ever been 'out of her damn mind'?"

"She thinks-" he broke off

"Yes?"

"She thinks I fancy you."

"Hmm." Harry said thoughtfully, biting his lip.

"W-where do you think she got that idea?" Ron asked, staring at Harry's face, which was deep in thought. 

"I dunno." said Harry "Unless of course you do."

"What?!"

"Well she wouldn't just mention something like that without reason, would she?"

"Oh bloody brilliant! Both my friends are nutters." Ron exclaimed, lying back again.

Harry sat up and leaned over his best friend. "Shut it, Weasley." he whispered before taking Ron's lips with his.

Ron froze in shock. Was he dreaming? No... this was real. He relaxed and returned the kiss. Harry's hand explored Ron's hair, pushing it out of his face. Ron held Harry close with one hand against the small of his back. 

After a moment, Harry leaned up, panting. "So, is 'Mione still insane?"

"To tell you the truth, she never was." Ron whispered, pulling Harry into another kiss.


End file.
